


Pull Me From Hell [Adamandriel]

by xoxoMouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adamandriel, Angst, Fix It Fic, Graphic, Happy Ending, M/M, Season Rewrite, The Cage, Torture, like its not that bad but still, old, read with caution, very old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxoMouse/pseuds/xoxoMouse
Summary: Samandriel saves Adam from the cage.[A/N]I wrote this in 2015 before we knew what the cage looked like and certainly way before the final season, so the descriptions in this story are completely what I imagined was happening in the cage and how I wanted to fix it.
Relationships: Adam Milligan/Samandriel
Kudos: 21





	Pull Me From Hell [Adamandriel]

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to my Wattpad account, I cut and edited the story to something worth posting here. Hope you guys like it!

Another agonizing day in the pit. Or maybe it was night? I really can't tell. It's not like there are windows. After Lucifer is done toying with me, I usually pass out. For hours or days, I have no idea really. There's no sense of time here. It's like this place was created before time or maybe outside of it, it just does what it wants. It speeds up when it feels like it but slows down more often than not. Wouldn't want the eternity down here going fast, now, would we? The tortures seem slow and painful. No, not painful. Painful is putting it lightly. Unfortunately I don't have the time to think of something better- Lucifer is walking towards me.

When we we fell into the pit, the descent stripped Lucifer of his mortal vessel. Michael’s too; and oddly enough I was able to see my body melting off of Michael's true form. I was able to watch myself become nothing. When I  _ can _ sleep, it's one of the things I have nightmares about.

The angels are basically just hundreds of stories tall beings of light. I don't know if they have bodies under there or not, but I don't want to find out. I have no idea why I didn't implode when I saw them for the first time. But every time between then and now, every time I've seen Lucifer's menacing form come towards me;I wish I had been destroyed.

Lucifer has to shrink down to ten feet to be able to get to me, while I'm sure it's like being the size of an ant to him; he's still much taller than me. It’s not the worst part but it doesn’t help the intimidation factors he has going for him.

His voice is a low frequency rumble with higher screeches now and then. Like static on an old radio that's been kicked one-too-many times. Somehow I can tell that his voice used to be soothing and calm. But not anymore. For some reason I'm able to hear words amidst that. Sometimes it's petty insults directed one-sidedly at Michael, other times they're horrible, gruesome things he describes to me before he starts his latest session. I know it's meant to scare me. It always does.

He starts in on me: first he has me relive the tortures of last time, the gashes he left, how he ripped me apart and then how he sewed me back together. You would think it'd feel better once I was together again, but no. He wasn't that merciful. It burns, my entire being burns, searing so much I'm surprised my skin doesn't bubble off. That's the worst part. But I guess I don’t  _ really  _ have skin anymore, do I? How can he destroy my body when there’s no body left to destroy? Somehow he finds a way.

He describes it in such detail. I try to block it out, but his voice, like nails being raked across a rusty knife, bores into my mind. He's sick, talking about the way human blood glistenes. It's metallic taste and how it clots. How mine doesn't clot as well as it should, how that makes it all the easier for him to run me dry. I'm sure I'm shaking, cowering at his words and his presence. Cowering at the memories and at what I know will come after the speech. Maybe he’ll cut open my chest while I watch; or maybe he'll slash my back up first today. All the while he'll curse me, my existence, my species' existence. Like it's my fault. He’ll curse me like I did this, as though I was born specifically to bring him grief. All things considered I'm starting to feel like it  _ is _ my fault. Most of all I wish he'd just kill me already. Put me out of my misery.

You'd think having an Archangel in there with you, a  _ guardian  _ angel, would save you, right? No. No, to be completely honest I think Michael harbors more hate for me and all of humanity than even Lucifer does. More disgust. More disdain at his father's favoritism towards humans and creatures of the Earth. I think he regrets not siding with his brother eons ago. Regrets acting like he ever liked us. Sometimes he watches. Watches as his brother does this to me. Watches as Lucifer tears me apart from the inside out. Secretly, I think he'd rather join in. That's almost worse than him turning a blind eye. His watching while he does nothing. Hearing me scream and offering no consolation. He hasn't talked since we've been here. Just Sat. Just watched. In some ways I hate him more than Lucifer.

Lucifer's finally finished with the pre-session speech and is coming closer to me. Ever so intimidating, inching nearer and nearer. I try to shrink down, he's backed me into the corner I try to stay in at all times. This cage, this box is so big. it was made for beings of a celestial stature, not for humans. Even though all of my tortures have happened here, I don't dare leave the comfort the two slabs of rock provide.

Lucifer has me by the throat and I'm pinned against the wall. He's about to run what I can only guess are his dagger like nails down my chest and stomach when there's a rumble throughout the room- and it’s big. Lucifer lets go of my neck abruptly and I drop to the floor. He seems to be looking at the ceiling from what I can make out of his form. I cough and rub my neck, he's  _ never  _ stopped before. Especially not before he’s even really begun. Something big is happening. I will myself to look upward at the ceiling.

Nothing feels different at first. For a few minutes it's like nothing even happened at all. Then the ceiling. The ceiling starts cracking. Just cracking. Splitting apart. And chunks of the brown-ish gray rock start raining down on us.

Through the holes I can see more beings of light, more angels. Why are they here? The breath is knocked out of my lungs. I've been here for what seems like centuries. What are they doing here  _ now?  _ Why couldn't they just leave it alone. Why couldn't they spare me Lucifer's anger when they're done with whatever it is they want?  _ Why? _

I have no idea why, maybe it's the presence of all of these angels, but I start to feel dizzy. The room starts spinning and the last thing I see is a new form of light. But there's something different about this one. This one doesn't seem like it wants to hurt me. The last thing I feel is a warm light surrounding me, lifting me upwards as I hear Lucifer screaming cries of rage in the background. Then I'm out.

When I do finally wake, I'm in a quirky hotel room. I'm on a bed and my head hurts. It hurts so badly. For the first time in a long time I feel different. Like before there was a piece of me missing that I didn't realize was gone. I'm whole for the first time in a long time. I feel as though I'm about to pass out again when a face appears in front of me, a boy with dirty blonde hair and a worried expression. Then the black crowds my vision and my head thuds dully against the pillow.

It takes a long time for me to stir again, even I can feel that. My joints are stiff, my arms are weak, and I can barely sit up. Then I notice the boy again. He's about my age, and he’s the first person I’ve seen in millenia that doesn’t want me dead.

"Where the hell am I?" I manage to choke out. My voice is strained and it hurts to talk.

The boy finally takes notice that I'm awake and rushes over to me. "Wow, you're actually awake. They said you wouldn't wake up. They said you wouldn't but I  _ knew  _ you would." he's smiling widely. Who is this guy?

"Who are you?" I ask.

His expression changes from giddy to as though he's mentally kicking himself. "My name is Samandriel. As a brother of mine once said, I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

I stare at him for several moments as the smile slowly falls from his face and changes to a nervous, jittery expression. I prop myself up on a few of the pillows and manage to keep from groaning.

"Hello, Samandriel," I say. I pause for a moment. Then I ask one of the most important questions of my life:

"Samandriel, why the fuck are you wearing a wiener hut uniform?"

He laughs, then explains everything to me. Everything.

The reason I didn't ever really  _ die  _ during the time I spent with Michael and Lucifer is because during that whole period my physical body was gone. Only my soul was stuck down there. I couldn't believe that something I couldn’t even confirm was real before was what I had spent the last three years as. I was down there three years. It felt like three hundred.

Apparently there had been an operation going on for the last three years. An operation to get me out. Not a lot of angels knew about it, not even that deep, rumbly voiced guy and my half brothers. A lot of angels didn't want to go through the hassle of opening the cage and possibly releasing Lucifer, but there were a few. A few that pushed to get an innocent soul out of there. Samandriel was one of them. I smiled a little when I found that out. He didn't even know me, but he didn't want an innocent to rot down there with his brother. He seemed like a good guy. Or celestial wavelength or whatever.

Later I learned he lost four of his brothers and sisters in the process of getting me out. Considering there were only ten Angels that knew about it and only seven who agreed with the plan, that was more than half a team of casualties. The other two that made it out wanted to leave me with my half brothers or someone from my old life. Samandriel said they got really distraught when their siblings...passed away. They didn't want to have be reminded of the decision they made that lessened their family more than it already had been over the years. Luckily Samandriel was able to find a vessel that would lend him use of his body so he could watch over me without frying me, now that I was back in a body that could be destroyed at the sight of him. I didn't ask how they got my body back together, I didn’t want to know. I just looked at Samandriel with awe.

This guy had seen four of his siblings die. The other two abandoned him with a broken soul who he didn't even know for sure would even wake up. He didn't know if this would work. He didn't know if he'd release Lucifer or if he'd even make it out of there alive... He did that all for someone he didn't even know.

I'm not sure when exactly I started crying, before or after I started hugging him.

I was shaking, sobbing, trying to get air into my lungs. I wouldn't have to go back there. Ever. I wouldn't have to endure Lucifer's tortures or Michael's silence anymore. Maybe I could even be normal.

"You're not going to leave me, right?" I sob pitifully. I don't want to be alone again, I’m not sure if I can stand it.

Samandriel pauses for a second, then I hear his voice crack slightly. "N-no. I won't leave." And if I didn’t know better about angels, I might have thought he started crying, too.


End file.
